Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Happiness or Misery?

The Untold Story

by cup-full-of-blood 22 reviews

The untold story about Frank is told. What is Gerard to do? please R&R i need them love you all your all great :)xxx

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Angst,Drama - Characters: Frank Iero,Gerard Way - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2011-05-08 - Updated: 2011-05-11 - 4137 words

A/N: Hi EVERYONE :D how are you all? >.< I wanted to post this sooner but school has been pretty stressful and I have had to work real hard. I have one week left now and I don’t want to leave lol even though half of the people in my school are idiots, I mean my English teacher lost my Romeo and Juliet practise exam sheet, ugghh I worked so hard as well. On the bright sight if you can call it that, I went to the dentist again on Thursday and my tooth is better, they still need to take the nerves away still, but I got to go to town and went to pulp and got a old 30STM t-shirt and a black and purple/red dress so I was happy hehe and my mom got me this pen that’s like a needle with blood in and I use it as a necklace hehe anyway you probs don’t even want to know about this I’m just blabbering on as perusal, sorry. Anyway, please carry on with R&Rs I REALLY could do with them I feel like my writing is slipping.
Anyway, thank you soo much for everyone who has so far it really does mean a lot :) enjoy
Choawwi chaz

I hear the birds chirping and the autumn wind blowing, whistling in my ears. The auburn crunched leaves toppling down, falling freely onto the ground beneath, as the wind brushes the ashy leaves, and scrapes the cluttered pavement along with unwanted litter. I hear the peaceful melody that is the petite chestnut coloured birds that flutter their wings so elegantly along with the wind mingled together, as the little fellows get ready for tack off as they sing through the neighbourhood.

The red traces in the sky, barely covered from the cotton wispy like clouds that float above, as I lean back into the windowsill and open window. My elbows are pressed to the cold window, curling my back so its hunched in, away from the chaotic students and busy teachers. Blocking all that loud sound out and leaning back, closing my eyes listening to the calming weather. This was a lot more fun than watching some play the teachers classed as funny.

My hand clutched onto my pencil with such force I fear it will snap, I had hoped drawing would ease my mind and clear all that lies within, give myself a rest and just focus on something less traumatizing. However, yet again like most things it was pointless, the swelling regret that punches my lungs only rises. Sometimes knowing some think secretive about someone, can be just as bad as them knowing some think secretive about you.

It’s a Sunday and you are supposed to be relaxing, cup of coffee in hand and a good old natter with your brother, but I couldn’t do that, well for one we had to go to a idiotic play but not only that, the way I feel, it haunts me. Sweat and guilt emits my forehead, shakily trembles down my porcelain skin, I feel ashamed, how can I relax? I feel too ashamed for my actions and utter self hatred. I feel as though someone has ripped my skin apart, revealing my pink fleshy insides and my bones, feeling to exposed and seen. I have no nails due to the excruciating frustration I have been in. If only I could erase time, rewind and go back to that night, maybe he could have told me then, but maybe he wouldn’t of, if it wasn’t for my harsh bitter words.

The guilt of knowing and the fear of not wanting to do next escapes me, I feel like people know I have done wrong, that everyone is watching me their eyes are on me. It’s silly really, me overacting like this. I can just go along like nothing happened, just ignore what I have read, but how can I do that, only a heartless pig would be able to scoop to such low standards. It’s as if I should hide, as someone is seeking the truth from me, though I have been the seeker and he isn’t even aware of that. In fact, it seems like things maybe getting worse for Frank, he seems more withdrawn and alone. Sure his friend i.e. princess fro fro, seems content with the new addition that is Frank, however he doesn’t seem to hang around with Frank as much as he used to. He seems almost oblivious to everyone around him and I kind of feel like the one who needs to help him.

Keeping this inside of me is eating me away, I know I shouldn’t have read it, but still I did, destined to know more. My weakness is showing and it baffles me how he could have kept all that inside of him all this time, not reaching out. I’m just someone who knows this, he has to live with it.

If only he could reach out and let someone in, tell me how he felt, why he decided to act the way he did, this wouldn’t be killing my right now. I had to excuse myself from the play to come here, claiming I wasn’t feeling well, which in this circumstance I’m not. I had to get some fresh air but now it seems I need more as the halls are filling up with people passing by plus the students cluttering the place buying gifts and other useless junk.

I left the windowsill, which I thought would be peaceful for longer .How the birds sung and chimed until the people destroyed that. That’s one thing I hate about the world. Mankind has destroyed most of all that’s pure and natural. Needless to say all the little amount of free land that’s left. I’m not much of a peacekeeper I know, reading what I did proves that. I just think mankind and the government is making life a lot more unfair and more imperfect more as the days go by. I guess what’s happened now is done, its to destroyed that we just have to live with it, hope that the next victim isn’t us and live life full of excitement and joy while it lasts, but that isn’t always as simple as it sounds.

Damn, look at me, I’m an emotional wreck from something so silly, how did I even begin the topic of this? I think Grandma Helena also gave me the gift of a blabbermouth and a non stop thinker.

I wondered to a more secluded area and searched for the restrooms, as that is defiantly what I could do with right now. As I kept a fast paste down the hall I came across the restrooms, and as I entered I was invited by the atrocious smell of urine and bad body odder, plus the revolting sight of the mould attached to the cubicles and scum rimmed around the wash basins. Talk about imperfect. I pulled a face and reluctantly entered further into the room and used the soul of my chuck Taylors to creak open the door. I looked inside, wondering how long I would last in here with the unbearable stench before I collapse of the rotting smell. Thank god, I’m not female right now.

Once I did what I had to do I quickly stumbled out of the musky and stuffy restroom to finally be greeted by actual air. The upkeep of this place is horrendous and as for the school taking us here, ‘a plague o’ both your houses’ I say.

I then quickly snuck outside itching to get more fresh air and freedom, I also needed alone time right now, then again it’s not like I haven’t been getting enough of that anyway. I can guarantee that the guys are suspicious of my behaviour but that isn’t the most significant thing on my mind at the moment that I have to think about. I hurriedly sprinted out back, and as soon as I reached the back of the building I was ecstatic that no one was there, but then again who hangs out at the back of a building except gangsters, druggy’s and weirdoes like me. I think I will fit right in.

I leant against the wall and crouched down. It’s crazy how much of an emotional wreck I have become. For the last two days I have asked myself ways of just simply helping Frank, getting to know what he is really like, he could do with at least telling someone and although I know I feel the need for him to tell me, but how would I start it. The longer I leave it the more it would just slip though my fingers harder to catch.

Everything that I have read that night keeps floating about in my head, and I’m just trying to figure out how I can approach this.

Franks Journal


It was a dark misty afternoon on January 20th 2003, when the terrible events erupted. The night was filled with ashy coloured clouds, smokers cough roaring in the dark ebony sky as fog crowded the air, seeming like another typical drowsy night for Belleville New Jersey. My Father was working late shifts, which meant I was just left with my Mother, watching ordinary reality TV in the lounge happily content with ourselves as we chatted, and demolishing our noodles, mindlessly unaware of the events soon to take place.

As I gathered our plates once we finished, and placed them into the bowl in the kitchen, I could strangely feel the room temperature drastically rise. It began to get extremely hot , as it prickled my skin allowing small drops of sweat to escape my forehead. I then heard sharp crinkling and saw whispers of smoke fill my nostrils. I sharply spun around, my eyes darting straight ahead, hoping that what I was thinking wasn’t going on. Believing that it was just the sound of the TV and hopefully the smoke had came from my Mothers lips, from taking a drag of her cigarette. Although she is cutting down I told myself that was what it was. However, how foolish was I to tell myself such lies.

When I descended the kitchen and entered the lounge, feeling more boiling heat raise to the surface of my skin, this time mixed with worry. When I finally made my last turn that’s when it hit me.

Furious fire was inches away from my face, lashing and spitting out towards me as the rubicund flames stretched further, like octopus arms reaching out and pulling me in. I flinched with shock and immediately jumped back. I shouted and pleaded to my Mother , hoping she could respond desperately, but all I could hear was faint sniffles and coughs . The smoke surrounded her and there was no way in, I was so scared. Fortunately my phone was In my pocket so I urgently grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and instantly called the fire brigade with shaky hands as my tears stung my eyes whilst they continued to shed. My heart beat was pumping so fast, and as I slowly crept away from the fire frantically, unsure of what to do and where to go. I wanted so desperately to rescue my Mother from this hurriedness nightmare of a fire and escape. Yet I was too weak, and to scared. The fire was everywhere, crawling behind me making it impossible to escape and harder to breath, soon enough I would be trapped in the fire, if the fire brigade don’t hurry.

All I could do was wait, and pray to god everything would be alright, My Mother will, everything will.

Frank X

Later on, everyone was ready for my Mother’s funeral, everything was arranged and set. She didn’t make the fire, it was too late for her. They arrived and put out the fire, leaving the houses remains to a crisp and burnt ashes falling from the ceiling. By the time they had arrived I was rescued first, luckily survived but at that moment all I could think about was my Mother. They then went further into the house putting out all the vicious flames and finally reaching my Mother. I saw them carry her limp body out of our house and watched our house nearly burn down. All that remained were the few family pictures, my Mothers favourite pink belt and my Guitar. Everything else was burnt. I briskly rushed up to them painfully wanting to see if my Mother could make it, but the look on their faces told me all.

I broke down, tears spilling out of my eye lids, my hands clasped to my face feeling as though I should have been the one to die not her. The damage was so bad they didn’t feel that I should go through it, and see my Mother looking the way she did. That night I sank to my knees, crying for her tears, my fathers and my own. I curled into a ball, huddling myself in tighter, wishing that if I just try and tighten myself that bit more I might just disappear feel no pain anymore. Maybe even burying myself into the ground, where she will so be. The heartbreak and trauma that I went through that night was enough to break me. I cried all night long, unable to stop, unable to speak, and unable to sleep. Trying to tell myself that she wasn’t gone, they can bring her back, they just have to, but they never did. She just died like that right before my eyes, how can I live without her, I need her so much. What is my life without her. Now my world is really ending, just like hers and in some way I just want it to end now. There was so much I thought I would achieve with he by my side, but now it seems like a million miles away. I cried so much it was as if a bucket full of water was being poured over my head repeatedly but it still didn’t wash away the pain.

The day of my Mother’s funeral had arrived, and as it did, the swelling and disappear that crawled within me making it harder to breath was suffocating me, I tried to keep a straight face but I couldn’t, it was too hard. The tears began and they were never ending, with my Father by my side it almost seemed unrealistic. I felt like my insides were twisted, draining every ounce of blood, I possessed, and I began to wish it did to.

I almost considered making my own bed a grave, fitting perfectly beside her. Never leaving her side, being with her and never letting go. After that time, it seemed tempting.

However it took me every ounce of strength and willpower , to stand back and watch her fall, let her go deeper inside that dark terrifying doom that it was, truly seeing her coffin land on the damp soil below, feeling very cold and alone. I felt frozen inside with her gone, as if I didn’t belong.

Frank X


Ever since that day I have never been the same, that was no accidental fire. Some sick fuckers burnt our house down and were now in jail, hopefully for life. I never want to remember that day but I do, too much and it brings me down that she can’ be here, just for simple things like all her comfort, the pancakes she would make in the morning spelling so divine with honey drizzling down the sides and when the school would do parents evening and Mothers day. I visited her grave a couple of times , but I couldn’t other than that it was too much and would bring so many unwanted emoticons back again. I did start to cut, the pain was too much for me to take, that I just wanted to feel the pain that she went through. I tried so hard to be strong for her, but I just wanted to be with her, end it all. Facing the school every day and pretending that everything was alright was a misery. I kept saying that tomorrow was another day but it was just as worse. It was like a vicious circle, mirroring the other dreadful school days of hell whilst every other kid smiled, laughed and played. I wanted to be one of those kids but no one acknowledged me, sure I had Ray but I couldn’t be myself, I didn’t want to tell anyone, have their sympathy and pity. In a way I stopped caring, I didn’t want to feel. It was too painful to feel. I couldn’t let anyone know.

Every other kid was fortunate to have their parents, and yet they just took advantage of them, treat them like crap on the back of their shoes. They didn’t know how well they got it.

On day after school I was ready, I was going to end it all. I didn’t care about the pain or suffering. I just wanted it over with, I had my knife and pen and paper ready for my suicide note.

I was ready.

I wrote my suicide note with shaky hands , trembling as I did so. I was so scared, but I just wasn’t strong enough to go through the pain every day.

I was ready.

My Father is a good man, he is there for me when I need him, and learnt me how to play guitar, how to skateboard and how to be myself. He loves me dearly as much as I love him, he hasn’t been to work for a whole month just to make sure I was ok and that I could cope but I can’t. As I thought about my Father, while twiddling the sharp knife in my hands, it was now clear to me.

I was not ready.

Just then my door to my bedroom opened, and as it did my Father was revealed. His face dropped when he saw me, he looked to me and down to the knife and instantly flew over to my side and snatched the knife from my grip, slinging it over the other side of the room. He then immediately held me tight, wrapping his arms around me while telling me never to do anything like that. Tears streamed down my face. How could I have been so stupid, my father is all I have now and I can’t lose him and he can’t lose me. Sure I have my grandparents and uncles and aunt but my Father means just as much to me as my Mother does and I know that more than ever now.

My tears ran down my cheeks just like my Fathers and just like before. Stained my face making it hard to see my Father clearly through my blurry vision. I apologised a hundred of times as I wept in his arms, I’m thankful I realised and that my father will never leave me. This wasn’t going to solve my problems, this is just giving up, something my Mother would have never wanted. I need to get through this with my Father that is what she would have wanted.

Frank X


So it has been a long time since my Mother’s death, and I am still here making it through, no matter how hard it gets sometimes, Ray is by my side, but I still can’t tell him. I have known him a while but I just feel like he wouldn’t be a hundred percent capable to deal with this, I don’t want anyone knowing yet, not when I don’t feel comfortable yet. I go around in school as if it doesn’t bother me and sure enough it does but I try to not let it get to me. There’s this one boy that I annoy a lot, I know he hates me but I just do it anyway. I suppose I just wanted someone to notice me, I wouldn’t say I am horrible to him or bully him, no I could never do that. I just try and get enough laughs at school as possible to ease my mind about my Mother, and block all the pain out. It is funny the way he gets wound up over it, I feel bad in a way but I have to let my emoticons out at someone, and he seems to be the one.

For some reason I like to see him, I can’t explain it but, I like that he finds me annoying and can’t stand me, it just seems normal I have had enough sympathy from my family that I don’t want that anymore. Maybe telling someone who isn’t as close to me might help, I don’t know. All I know is that I annoy him and I can’t seem to stop. I have realised that the more I carry this on he really will hate me, and it’s not fair on him, he actually seems ok, and I don’t want him to hate me it was just a way of letting some anger out onto someone.

It was a way to forget about my Mother but now she keeps crawling into my mind and it’s upsetting. Annoying him was a way to block all of that out, but after he said the words ‘At least I don’t go raiding through my Mothers draws. That would explain the pink belt, Mommy’s boy’ that really hit home and I couldn’t carry on being annoying and cruel to him like that, as I now know what it’s like. That kind of changed everything, I got upset and locked myself in the bathroom not the best of manoeuvres but it really did bring make some unwanted feelings. I apologised for my behaviour towards him, he forgiven me but that was all. I have stopped annoying him now, and it seems like it’s got worse. I know he hasn’t exactly liked me but I wish he could talk to me, I could have someone to just talk to. Someone different, but I couldn’t tell him why though, all I would get is sympathy and the rest, He wants to know why I was the way I was to him and that’s all, I wish I wasn’t not now that I have realised that he really is kind of ok. Now I feel like, I’m back to the old boring life I had, there is no excitement and I know I need to tell someone about my Mother before its too late.

Frank X

That was a lot to take in, too much even. I wish in a way that I hadn’t interfered and read all of his privacy, and I feel bad, but I need to help him, what he has been through is a lot at this age, and I don’t know how I would have acted in his position. Keeping it locked up inside isn’t good. I know why he didn’t tell me why he was so annoying to me, and yes I forgive him. For what he has been though is a lot. He needs someone to talk to ,and I’m going to be that person. I feel as if I should be the one to stop him from being so upset, after all I am the one who caused it without even knowing, but this time I am going to stop it with knowing. I just hope he still thinks I’m ok and I hope I know how to help.

A/N: Again sorry it’s kind of late, I’m not sure this is that good, I had wrote loads for franks entry but I had to rewrite it cuz I wasn’t sure how to put it and I had too much. I don't think this one is that good, i don't really like it but the next ones will be a lot more eventfull. Please R&R with a Frankie ontop. I would love to know what you really think and if its that good.
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